Ever After
by itsLisey
Summary: Originally posted on my tumblr. One-shot. "Her laughter was contagious. Jane couldn't get enough of it. It was the one true joy left in Jane's world." COMPLETE


**I originally posted this to my tumblr last night but I thought I would share with non-tumblr folks as well. **

Her laughter was contagious. Jane couldn't get enough of it. It was the one true joy left in Jane's world.

Smooth ivory skin. Haunting green eyes. Her hair fell in butterscotch blonde waves down her back, soft curves weaving in and out of each other like a calm ocean tide. She sat on the couch, chin up towards the ceiling as she let out a small laugh. It had been seven years. Seven glorious, beautiful, tragic years. And with a heavy heart, Jane looked to the future with open eyes and hope, if only for her sake.

A stillness had settled in the household. Angela kneaded dough at the counter, her arms covered in flecks of white flour and her face dotted with perspiration. She, too, had been trying her best, but Jane knew that deep inside of her mother was a broken heart and a cry she hadn't yet cried; there were too many laughs laughed too hard, too many smiles too broad. But Jane was not brave enough nor was she strong enough to be the shoulder Angela needed to cry on. Jane didn't know how to cry either.

She took the steps two at a time. They had decided not to move. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem fair. It all happened there, though. There on the steps, there in the garden, there in the drive. The broken windows, the shattered glass from Maura's expensive vases that Jane never really understood. And there had been blood, so much blood, and Jane fought back tears as she reached the hallway.

_Glass crunched beneath her work boots. Jane squinted into the darkness; they were still there, she knew they were. The house was dark and quiet but she could feel it in her gut; someone, maybe multiple someones, were still lurking in the shadows. Jane pressed one hand to her gun and pressed her back firmly against the wall near the staircase, maneuvering herself just slightly so she could attempt a look up the stairs._

_Three shots rang out and Jane brought herself back against the wall, concealed momentarily, her gun raised against her cheek and her chest rising and falling with each quick, rapid beat of her heart._

_"Boston PD!" she shouted. Jane was met with silence. "I'm a cop and you're in my house. I will shoot you," One gunshot and footsteps rained down upon her; she pulled away from her cover and shot out four times at the two fleeing gunmen. They were half way across the line as Jane made it to the french doors that led to the garden. "God dammit," she hissed, pulling the doors shut and locking them. It seemed pointless, though, as Jane stepped back and examined them. They, too, had the glass shot out of the panes. She sighed. Maura was going to kill her._

_A noise startled Jane. The sound of a faint cry led her to the stairs, and Jane bit back the bile rising in her throat as she reached the top._

_"Maura?" she fell to the ground and crawled her way over to her wife. "Maura, Maura, hey, hey, sweetie," The medical examiner's wrists were bound in thick, dirty rags. Her dress had been torn and rested tattered on Maura's shoulders. "They're gone, Maura. Hey, look at me," Jane gave one last tug and the restraints on Maura's wrists gave way. Maura let out a faint sob and collapsed against the detective's shoulder, her eyes fluttering._

_"Jane," she whispered hoarsely._

_"I'm gonna call an ambulance, okay, Maura?" Jane fumbled with her phone, but Maura was shaking her head. She tried bringing a hand to Jane's cheek, but Jane pulled herself away. She spoke quickly into the phone and hung up just as fast. "They're on their way, okay? You just, you just,"_

_"Frankie,"_

_"Frankie?" Maura nodded. "Is Frankie here, Maura?" She nodded again. Jane looked around her, wildly looking for a figure in the dark. "Frankie?!" she screamed. "Frankie!"_

_"Downstairs,"_

_"I won't leave you!"_

_"Go,"_

_"Maura, I can't,"_

_"Please,"_

_"Maura…" It was a fleeting look; Jane had seen it before. Eight years loving Maura meant eight years of battling that one glint in her eye. There was no winning the fight. _

Jane sunk to the floor. How had it been a month, she thought miserably. A shadow of quieter footsteps had followed her own and Jane soon caught a glance of the butterscotch hair, then the green eyes, and then the smooth, ivory skin. A face, a torso. A gingerly step.

"Mama?" she whispered.

"C'mon, Al," Jane opened her arm and waited for her daughter to slide next to her. She hugged the petite seven year old and pressed her dry lips to the top of her daughter's head.

"Did it hurt her?" Jane had been waiting for this. She had been waiting for the questions, for their daughter's natural curiosity to overcome her need to compartmentalize. Alexandra was so much like Maura.

"No," the brunette said through clenched teeth. Lie #1. "She barely felt a thing." Lie #2.

"Did it hurt Uncle Frankie?"

"No, he was okay, Al. It didn't hurt too bad," Lie #3. Alexandra remained pensive for a few moments before pulling away from her mother just enough that she could twist her small body and stare up.

With a calm, even voice, she asked: "Why did they have to go?"

Jane paused. She had been asking this question for days. For weeks. For one month exactly. She had laid in this spot, laid in Maura's grave, asking herself over and over again. Why hadn't she come home sooner? Why had Maura been here at all? She hadn't made plans to come home early. Frankie wasn't supposed to be there. And every day that Jane woke up aside a lonely pillow, a scream let loose inside her head.

Why hadn't she stayed with her?

"They didn't want to, baby," said Jane thickly. "Sometimes things happen to really good people. Sometimes there are people in the world that are mean, that aren't… they aren't thinking right. They are capable of more harm than they are good. But that's… it's why I do my job, Al. Every day. It's why Uncle Frankie did his job, and why your mom did hers. For every person who is capable of harm, there are people like us working to stop them,"

Al chewed on her bottom lip. "Why couldn't anyone stop them from taking momma?"

"Because," Jane brought the girl to her, wrapping her in a warm hug and letting her chin rest on her daughter's head. " - sometimes we don't always win. But that's why we keep fighting. We keep… we keep going. We don't give up. And they might be gone, but they're always going to be with us. They'll never leave us," A tear slipped down Jane's cheek. "And I won't ever leave your momma, Al. Not ever. She is always with me..."


End file.
